Getting Over it
by Jiffer
Summary: Ron and Hermione start going out - Harry feels abandoned and starts seeking solitude in the dark forgotten hallways of Hogwarts where he meets the last person he wants to see... (RHr, HD hints later)


Getting Over It

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And I find it kind of funny  
I find it kind of sad  
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had

Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to Harry Potter or the song lyric used above. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and anyone else involved in the making of her books.

Harry walked morosely down the empty stone hallways of the fourth floor of Hogwarts. The sun was nearly set with the fading light growing dim through the cracked and dusty windows and leaving a hazed outline over the area ahead of him. There wasn't any sound except for his footsteps and the squeak of a rat somewhere behind the walls that had escaped the careful hunting of Mrs. Norris. Harry knew he should probably turn on his wand soon or risk bumping into a wall once the sun completely set. The corridors he had been exploring for the past week were so abandoned that even the spells on the torches no longer worked. It was proof that no one ever came there except for him. Not even Ron or Hermione knew about this particular hallway. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell them about it, it was just…

Harry could already hear Hermione's voice as she berated him.

_…so near the Slytherins! You know what Dumbledore told you!_

It was ridicules, really. Did she really think that he cared if some Slytherin bullies attacked him? Compared to Voldermort, they were one of the least of his worries. Besides, after being pent up at Hogwarts for so long, he wouldn't mind a fight, especially if it was with Malfoy. That blonde haired ferret still hadn't changed his demeanor even after his father was arrested. If anything, his malice towards Harry had increased. Something Harry hadn't thought was possible.

Harry kicked at a piece of mortar that had fallen loose from the aged ceiling about him. He knew that Hermione lecturing him wasn't the only reason why he was hesitant to tell her and Ron about his late night ventures. The truth was that Ron and Hermione were becoming somewhat intolerable to be around.

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It had been funny at the time in the Gryffindor Common Room. People still talked about it even after a month had passed. Harry remembered the exact day because it was on the eve of Halloween. He could even recall what it was that Ron and Hermione were arguing about that time.

"Why would I take away points from Gryffindor, Hermione? Ron argued as he maneuvered himself around Crookshanks, who jumped out of one of the plushy seats by the fireplace, and just in time to avoid being squashed as he plopped himself down. "Seems pretty stupid to hurt your own house, if you ask me."

"Ron, we're Prefects! We're supposed to not be bias towards our houses," Hermione hissed as she stood over Ron and his chair. "The whole point is so that we can distribute punishment equally, not so we can abuse our powers!"

"Oh yeah, because you know that Snape and Malfoy are completely not doing that," Ron said sarcastically.

"It's really not saying much about your character, Ron, when you keep comparing it to Malfoy and Snape."

"I'm not comparing it! I'm just saying that I'm combat-"

"Using evil against evil doesn't solve anything either, Ron!"

"My money's are on Hermione, this time," Dean said in Harry's ear, causing him to jump in surprise. Harry had been watching the drama unfold far away at one of the tables near the window. He had been so intent on watching that he hadn't noticed him coming up.

"Oh, yeah… me too," Harry responded half-heartedly. He put his quill down which he had before been holding posed over the sentence he had been writing.

The argument was getting louder. It had been the first serious one they had had since coming back to Hogwarts. Harry had almost begun to believe that maybe they had both outgrown their passionate disputes. This one seemed to be making up for the uncommon delay.

"- with Lockheart!"

"Oh, will you stop bringing up Lockheart! I was twelve years old, Ron!"

"Christ, man, when will Ron just get out and say he fancies her already," Dean commented in a bored voice as he sat down next to Harry on the other side of the table so he was facing Ron and Hermione. Harry had to turn around in his seat to see.

"Ron's probably just too stubborn," Harry muttered before he could catch himself.

Dean snorted half in surprised that Harry actually openly admitted Ron's interests and half in agreement with what he said.

The argument meanwhile seemed to be shifting into Hermione's favor. Harry could tell Ron was about to lose by the shade of his ears. The red had been rising steadily from his neck and was now raising to the 'danger zone'. Harry was just waiting for when the tips started to turn white.

"Hermione, what do you want with me, anyway? There's just no pleasing you, is there?"

"Oh, don't turn this into some sort of pity game, Ron. I won't be badgered into it," Hermione said, crossing arms. It was her weakness sign. Harry knew she was near her end when she could no longer trust herself to keep her arms still.

"I'm not-!" Ron's voice rose dramatically then shrank again as he took control of it. "I'm not turning this into a pity game. I'm just tired of you being such a…a…"

"A what?" Hermione's voice was ice.

_Ron, please don't say whatever it is that you're thinking about saying,_ Harry begged in his mind. He could see Ron struggling with it, but whatever it was he was going to say, Harry didn't hear because as soon as he opened his mouth again, there was a loud BANG as an Exploding Snaps game reached its climax.

It was also in that stunning bang that Ron chose to get up from his seat.

Harry may not have heard what Ron had said, but the look on Hermione's face confirmed that he was right in thinking Ron shouldn't have said it.

Her cheeks were burning red and her arms clasped stiffly tight against her chest. She looked caught off guard with the sudden noise of the card game exploding and the sudden closeness of Ron.

The were both standing inches away from each other, so close that Hermione had to lean her head back to meet Ron's gaze.

"Ron, I can't b-believed you just..." Hermione had stuttered. Harry couldn't recall any argument she had been in where she did that.

Ron looked a bit staggered too. The color in his face had retreated. "Y-Yeah, well, I uh…"  
And then it happened.

Some people said that Ron had done it out of an act of desperation to keep Hermione from murdering him. Other people said that it was simply too many hormones being pent up for too long that lead to it.

Harry was partial to agree with both.

One moment they were both glaring at each other daggers of contempt, the next Ron had grabbed Hermione's shoulders and kissed her.

It wasn't the greatest of kisses Harry had ever seen. He'd almost missed her mouth.

It was in that moment that the previously loud room went deadly quiet, and the previously red Hermione was deadly pale when she pushed herself away from Ron. Her wide eyes swept over the whole room, taking in all the staring faces. Taking another step back, she turned and ran straight for the girls' dormitories.  
Ron blinked once at the suddenly empty space where Hermione used to be before reality kicked in and he ran after her.

"Hermione, wait! I- listen, I didn't—!" He bound up the stairs after Hermione and it wasn't until the tenth step that the spell finally activated.

With a choked yell of surprise, Ron made wild arm motions as his feet started sliding. His back arched and with a loud 'thud' he fell painfully backwards and slid the rest of the way to the floor.

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It took Ron and Hermione two days before they finally reached a decision on their relationship. It had happened in the evening while all three of them were in the library studying for potions. Ron had been doing a poor job of apologizing to Hermione for the sixth time and Hermione had been doing a poor job of ignoring Ron. A fight had erupted, and Harry, not wanting to be in cross fire, had gone to go return a book on one of its shelves. He had came back to an oddly quiet table, went past the book shelf blocking his view of things, and found his two best friends resolving issues across the table. Ron had his hand sweeping back Hermione's hair from his face and her hands were both clasped onto the binding on her _The Origins of Potions_. Harry had always thought himself mature about handling things like kisses. His first kiss with Cho had been… fun enough, in the wet kind of abrupt sense, but to see Ron and Hermione together like that...

It felt like a train had crashed violently into his stomach.

He didn't realize he was making a strange gurgling sound in the back of his throat until Hermione and Ron both heard him. Ron's hand untangled it's self from Hermione's curly mass of hair and Hermione made a quick business of sitting back down in her chair and pretending there was something wrong with the sleeve of her school robes.

It only got worse as the weeks went on. Harry understood that his friends weren't meaning to exclude him, but it was more or less fighting the inevitable. During classes, the usual notes exchanged between him and Ron were now long forgotten as Ron and Hermione took up the habit between themselves. Walks down the hallways were beginning to be awkward. Any time Harry met Ron and Hermione they were holding hands. No matter how Harry looked at it, he was starting to feel like there was beginning to be no more room for him.

Ron and Hermione both sensed what was happening with Harry, but in a way, them trying to not hurt his feelings only made it worse. Harry didn't enjoy feeling like he was interrupting when Ron and Hermione would break away when they see him walk into the room. He didn't want Ron to drop Hermione's hand when he joined them in the hallways but then again he didn't want him holding her hand either.

It was all just so unpleasant. The whole situation. Harry felt like their trio had been broken, and though he tried hard not to feel resentful, he couldn't help but feel it anyway.

It didn't help the matter much that everyone in the school was once again making him feel isolated. While it was a bit nicer not being labeled a 'nut job' anymore, being treated like he was some sort of strange inhuman being wasn't very fun either. The first years openly gawked at him, and the rest of the school spent their time talking behind their hands to each other whenever he walked by. A few had even stopped him in the halls the beginning of the year to shake his hand and tell him how they had always believed him and been on his side. The doubtfulness of that wasn't worth Harry's attention. He really wished they would just let him live his own life as a normal student. At least Ron and Hermione had treated him like a normal person, though now they seemed to be distancing themselves from him too.

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A strange tightness came into Harry's chest. He slowed his walking down and paused for a bit to catch the last rays of light outside the window, disappearing behind the tree branches of the Forbidden Forest.

So much had happened. He almost felt like all the weight of the last five years had decided now to suddenly appear on his shoulders. He leaned onto the wall next to the window and hit his head against it. The slight pain felt almost good. He did it harder. Yes, it was almost like by feeling hurt on the outside it made the pain on the inside feel a little deader. Sinking down to the floor, he hugged his knees close to him.

Being in that hallway all by himself suddenly made him feel like he was completely alone. It was funny. He had fled the Gryffindor common room to be alone and now he hated it. He pictured himself going back to his dormitory. Ron would probably be up there by now if he wasn't still with Hermione. The thought of Ron and the others made his insides twist a bit.

No. He didn't want to go back there either. He didn't quite know what he wanted, just that everything was feeling so very, very disconnected to him right now.

_Sirius._ The thought of his godfather sent a violent shudder of dread go through him. Whenever he remembered him it made his whole body suddenly felt numb. He had been going through the year trying hard not to think about him. It was amazing how much Harry could function if he tried to just keep his mind constantly occupied with something else all the time. Now, though, he was by himself and the picture of Sirius' face kept coming into his mind. Was it just him, or was it getting harder to remember? Whenever he thought of him, the first thing Harry would remember was his shaggy black hair, then his eyes and how haunted they could always look and yet how warm and friendly they could be too.

A hallow emptiness grew in his chest. No matter how bad life had gotten for him those past two years he had always had Sirius. It was hard to believe that they had only known each other for such a short time. He had been the one person he could count on above anyone else to be there.

Now who was going to be there? He hadn't even have had a chance to say goodbye.

Everyone had told him he wasn't the one to blame, but what did they really know? Sirius. Cedric. His parents. They had all died because of him.

_No. Not because of him,_ his mind quickly reasoned with him. Because of Voldermort.

Voldermort was the one who killed them all. Not him, but now Harry was supposed to kill Voldermort.

The furious wave that over took him was almost surprising. Harry clinched his fists tightly and pressed them hard against his eyes. Moisture rubbed off onto his knuckles and he pulled them away quickly.

Was he crying? He felt tentatively around his eyes and sure enough they were wet. Just by registering the tears in his mind made them easier for him to shed. They streamed quickly down his face, falling onto his lap, down the bridge of his nose, and into the corners of his mouth.

He had been trying for so long to be strong against all this. He had been trying so hard not to cry and give into the weakness he felt within himself. All the emotions welling up inside him.

Anger. Grief. Sadness. Longing.

How he longed for the 'if only's. If only he could go back in time and fix all this. If only none of this had happened. He was sick of being the Boy Who Lived. The one that everyone expected to save the day. When was he going to be allowed to just be Harry? Just plain, ordinary Harry Potter?

A sob of furious helplessness escaped him as he slammed his head back sharply against the wall. The pain was dazzling, but it was nothing to dent the hurt he was feeling inside.

It was just then that a voice spoke up. "My, my, someone's having problems now isn't he?"

Of all the people in the world, the one that Harry would have hated most of all to see him the way he was currently was there, wand out and shinning, standing far off and down the hallway with a smirk visible from where Harry was sitting.

A snarled word that was echoed into almost something inhuman came out of Harry's mouth: "Malfoy."

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